


Between the Drinks and Subtle Things (The Holes in My Apologies)

by HobbitSpaceCase



Category: Mr. Robot (TV)
Genre: Darlene's got a thing for self hate, Dom is in lust, Drunk Dom, F/F, Hate Sex, but she is not happy about it, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-16
Updated: 2018-08-16
Packaged: 2019-06-28 01:55:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15697761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HobbitSpaceCase/pseuds/HobbitSpaceCase
Summary: “Thought you never wanted to see me again,” Darlene drawled, tipping her head back to meet Dom’s wild gaze.  A shiver ran down her spine, not entirely unpleasant, at the dark, stormy ocean blue of Dom’s eyes.  “You’re sending some mixed signals, here, babe.”





	Between the Drinks and Subtle Things (The Holes in My Apologies)

Darlene was alone in Elliot’s apartment when the door was unceremoniously kicked open. A moment later, her back scraped against rough drywall and Agent Dominique Dipiero loomed over her, cheap beer and whiskey mingling in her breath. Even like this, breaking into Elliot’s apartment in a drunk rage, she was unfairly gorgeous.

“Thought you never wanted to see me again,” Darlene drawled, tipping her head back to meet Dom’s wild gaze. A shiver ran down her spine, not entirely unpleasant, at the dark, stormy ocean blue of Dom’s eyes. “You’re sending some mixed signals, here, babe.”

A heavy fist struck the wall by Darlene’s face, and she flinched. “You _ruined_ my life,” Dom growled. The tenor of her voice sent more shivers racing along Darlene’s skin. “You ruined my fucking life, and now I can’t get you _out of my head_.” She was so close her chest nearly brushed against Darlene’s with every ragged inhale. The memory of what had happened the last time they were so close, with smell of cheap alcohol and men’s cologne creating a heady mixture of pheromones in the air, went straight to Darlene’s head.

“What exactly are you looking for, here?” she asked, letting the fingers of her left hand barely brush against Dom’s waist.

Dom trembled beneath her touch. It was nearly as intoxicating as whatever cocktails Dom had clearly downed before showing up at Darlene’s door. “I want you to _hurt_ ,” she whispered, her breath warm against Darlene’s lips. “I want you to know how I feel, what you did to my life. You _ruined_ it, and I want to hurt you so _fucking_ badly.”

Darlene let her touch grow firmed, twisted her lips into something serious and steady, and said, “Then hurt me.”

The thump of her head against the wall _was_ painful, when Dom crushed their mouths together in a bruising kiss. The teeth sinking into her lips hurt, too, but it was a good hurt. The kind of hurt Darlene deserved, for what she’d put the world through. For how she had allowed herself to be played like a puppet by the very rich people she despised, the people she had tried to take down and only driven higher. She groaned and canted her hips forward, grinding against Dom. “ _Hurt me,_ ” she commanded, when Dom gave her a moment to breath.

Dom fisted a hand in her hair and yanked, biting her throat hard enough that it would certainly bruise. It felt good. Clean. She snaked her arms around Dom’s waist and pulled the FBI agent closer, crushed their bodies together till Dom growled and ground her body back against the wall. “I fucking _hate_ you,” Dom said into the curve of her neck. She slid her other hand up Darlene’s shirt and squeezed Darlene’s tits hard enough for that to be painful, too.

“I know, babe,” Darlene said, head tilted back to give Dom access to whatever she wanted. “And I want you to take what you need.”

Dom made a wounded sound and drew back. Darlene barely had time to be disappointed, before Dom gripped her around the waist and twisted, throwing her bodily onto Elliot’s bed. She banished the weirdness of getting fucked on her brother’s bed easily before it could take hold and ruin this. Dom was owed a lot more than Darlene overcoming a little weirdness for her sake. She lifted her hips for Dom to drag her pants off and struggled out of her shirt. Being with a girl meant it took no time at all for her bra to follow her shirt and pants, and then she was laid out nearly naked for whatever Dom wanted. Whatever she needed.

Dom pinned her easily to the mattress and crashed their mouths back together. The fabric of her FBI suit scratched at sensitive naked skin, little pinpricks of sensation everywhere, overwhelming. When Dom slipped a hand beneath her underwear, she bucked her hips into the wandering fingers, desperate and already dripping. Two fingers slipped easily inside her, fucked into her till she writhed and moaned, unable to go anywhere with Dom’s heavy weight keeping her pressed into the mattress. It was so fucking good, but not enough. Not what either of them deserved.

“Harder,” she groaned into Dom’s mouth. The growl her words encouraged went straight to her gut. “Fuck, babe, _harder_.” Dom bit down on her bottom lip with a furious snarl hard enough to draw blood. Darlene laughed, sure there would be red on her teeth, gleaming blood painting her smile in the light from Elliot’s window. “Yeah,” she breathed. “That’s it.” Above her, Dom was a beautiful picture of frustrated rage. Her eyes were muddled with pain and the drink still clinging to her breath, but there was enough focus remaining to to bring her like an arrow straight to the source of her pain. None of that terrible soft sweetness that had originally drawn Darlene to the FBI agent with the painfully honest eyes remained in the woman over her.

Darlene deserved whatever Dom wanted to do to her. She deserved so much worse than anything Dom _would_ do to her.

Dom slipped down her body, cheap shirt scraping along her skin, raising a patchwork of reddened splotches across her chest and belly. “Why can’t I get you out of my head?” Dom asked the hollow of her throat. “Why couldn’t you have just stayed away?” she questioned the curve of Darlene’s chest. Her fingers slowed to a deep, nearly painful rhythm. The blunt nails of her free hand raked down Darlene’s side, over the bumps of her ribcage and the soft flesh above the sharp jut of her hips.

Teeth closed around one hard and aching nipple, and Darlene felt her first orgasm wash through her with the simultaneous grind of Dom’s fingers into her g-spot. She whimpered and moaned when the arch of her back tugged at the sensitive nipple still caught between Dom’s teeth. “Fuck,” she groaned, rocking her hips insistently against those clever fucking fingers as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. Dom gave her no time to come down or recover. She slipped down her sweat-slick body immediately, plunging wet fingers deeper inside Darlene and laving her sinful tongue right over Darlene’s swollen clit.

It was too much too fast too hard - it was perfect. A second orgasm built rapidly beneath the subsiding tremors of the first. Her eyes slipped closed, blocking out one source of the overwhelming sensory input washing through her body. 

Blunt nails raked over Darlene’s inner thigh, fingers pressing hard enough to bruise. “Please,” she whimpered, wanting to drive Dom harder. “It _hurts_.” Pain rippled through her core when Dom scraped teeth over her labia. “Fuck,” she moaned, and felt her body clench around Dom’s fingers in a second orgasm. She was so wet she could feel the growing puddle on the sheets beneath her, but Dom kept going, biting the curve of her inner thigh and soothing the area with her tongue, only to bite down again on a new patch of skin moments later.

Dom left a methodical patchwork of hickeys that Darlene was going to feel for days, a reminder of the woman who’s life she ruined every time she moved her legs. Wearing jeans after this was going to be a total bitch. She looked forward to the pain.

“Please,” she whimpered, “kiss me again.” The words drew an answering growl from Dom, something raw and pained that went straight to Darlene’s core. A moment later, Dom’s mouth sealed over her clit, kissing and sucking till Darlene practically screamed, her hands burying themselves in Dom’s hair without conscious input from her brain, holding Dom in place even as her body cried out with _too much._ Her whole body shook, tremors wracking her limbs and curving her spine up off the bed.

“Fuck!” she cried, caught halfway between pleasure and the exquisite bite of overstimulated agony. Every nerve lit up in a dizzying flush of sensation that stole her breath away. She was a wet, panting mess, a kaleidoscope of raw animal need. All the terror and pain and horror of the last weeks and months of her life, scraped out of her insides and washed away by the hands and mouth of the woman she had destroyed just as thoroughly as she had helped destroy everyone she’d wanted so desperately only to help.

Beneath Dom’s hands, she was nothing but flesh and blood and bone and shivering, aching skin. Nothing but the rabbit-quick beat of her heart and the tangle of her fingers in soft auburn hair.

Afterwards, when Dom had exhausted all the flame-bright rage that had sent her crashing into Darlene’s apartment with whiskey and lust burning holes in her veins, Darlene couldn’t bring herself to do anything as soft as _cuddle._ There was sex and adrenaline and the bittersweet feedback loop of pain and lust and hate all tangled up together, and then there was the silence of whiskey slumber and lost souls.

Darlene extricated herself from Dom’s grasping arms once she was certain the FBI agent was truly deep asleep, and lit a cigarette from the coffee table with shaking hands. She had no idea where the fuck either of them were supposed to go from here.


End file.
